


Words Are All We Have

by Shyspyder



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: (trigger warnings are for later chapters & between Sansa/Joffrey), Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Modern AU, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Domestic Violence, Slow Burn, how are there not more modern au's for this pairing????, protective big brother jon, sansa returning from college au, stark family being a family, target employees au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-02-28 07:15:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18751606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shyspyder/pseuds/Shyspyder
Summary: After a grueling first semester in King's Landing, Sansa returns home hoping to chase away her demons and start fresh. She returns to a family she missed more then she ever thought she would. And she returns to her old job, fully expecting to have trouble settling back in. But the past isn't done with her yet. And she sure as hells doesn't expect Theon Greyjoy of all people to be the one to help shake it off for good.





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Hey pals! Here's a modern target employee au that no one asked for (if the writers can butcher my favorite show then I can pretend like modern westeros is like midwest america/minnesota and has Target stores everywhere lmao). I'm posting this chapter now, but fair warning, it may be a little while before I update since finals just started. I'm hoping once these next two hell-weeks are over I can finally calm down. 
> 
> Otherwise, this is the first time I've ever planned out a fic longer then 3 chapters and more then 5k words, so I'm excited and terrified and am 1000% it could be better, but here we are. Thx for reading!!

It wasn’t difficult for her to get her old job back. 

One of the managers, Rodrick, had been friends with her parents for years. When he heard that another Stark was coming back to town, he practically begged her parents for her to reapply. Not that it took much convincing. Winterfell Target was just around the corner from her house. Close enough to walk in the summertime, far enough to be a safe space when things grew too crowded. And they often did, back when she was a sixteen year old girl trying to escape the north. 

And most of her siblings still worked there now. 

She remembered her last visit during the holidays as if it were yesterday. She remembered the relief she felt stepping through its doors for the first time in months. She remembered her utter surprise at said relief. After a lifetime of wanting to be somewhere different, such a simple place had learned to hold so much meaning for her. 

In the end, the Winterfell Target had always been a second home to the Stark clan. There were enough of them to know that at any given point, there would be at least one Stark present to greet customers or man the cash register or stock the shelves when the crowds thinned out. 

It shouldn’t have been a surprise to Sansa to know that it would always be a safe space for more reason than one. She used to work the register, ringing up groceries and signing people up for rewards cards. When it became clear she had a knack for fashion and design, and took a place in the women’s clothing department the summer before she left for school. She basically lived there. All her friends worked there, her family, everything she knew. 

It was a bit of a culture shock, to say the least, when she threw it all a way to go to college down south. 

Not that it changed the knot of stress growing in her belly when she returned. 

For as long as Sansa could remember, she wanted to escape. To leave Winterfell, and go to college in King’s Landing. So she saved every coin that she could, applying to everything within an hour radius of the city center. She always kept her grades high and studied feverishly for each exam, until she was at the top of her class in every class. And when she wasn’t memorizing the periodic table or learning the names of kings who died thousands of years ago, she involved herself in as many extracurriculars as she could. Student council, honor society...anything she could take that would pave her future south. 

Of course, it was inevitable that things would fall apart. 

There was nothing in this world she wished for more than to go back in time. To tell herself that none of it was worth it. That the south was a terrible place, filled with fake people and liars and pretty boys who don’t give a damn about pretty girls from the north. 

She mixed with the wrong people. Joffrey, for a start. But the rest of them didn’t help much either. Margaery, her roommate, was the only one she still talked to after everything that happened. And before she went back home, she promised Sansa that she would take a train north and visit her at some point. 

So she picked herself back up. Sucked up her pride and admitted to herself that her family truly was the most important thing in her life, and she would be damned if she let that slip away too. 

She enrolled herself at Winterfell Community College and handed in her application to her old job at Target. Tentatively, she chose design as her major. She had considered re-applying for political science. It was what she had majored in while at King’s Landing. But the truth was, it was never really what she wanted to do. She was good at it, yes, but in the end it only added to the growing list of things that made her unhappy. Even when times were the worst, she was always drawn back to her art.

The only things she had to associate with Political Science were Joffrey’s screams as he guilted her into writing his essays for him and Professor Baelish’s hand on her thigh during office hours...

No. Those southern men did not control her life any longer. She was a Stark of Winterfell, and she was home. 

“You don’t have to be here, if you don’t want to,” Jon said to her in the parking lot, after they pulled into the front of the big tan building. “If you want to focus on your studies instead…” 

He had offered to give her a ride on her first day back. It was his turn with the car. Robb was at the University of Riverrun finishing up his last year, and had no use for it. So the only person he really had to share it with was Theon. 

Theon, who was at their house often enough that he might as well be one of them. Sansa was surprised at how nice it had been to see him again. He had always been Robb and Jon’s friend before he had been hers, but at some point along the way, he had turned into a consistent presence that she needed more than she’d like to admit. 

“It’s alright,” she smiled at her brother. “I like to stay busy.”

She was only half-joking, but Jon looked at her with a mixture of pity and concern. She hadn’t told anyone the full details of what happened during those lonely months in King’s Landing, but they knew the important bits. They knew that for eight out of the nine months, Joffrey had made her life a living hell. They knew that she was terrified to leave, that he threatened her in every way that he could. They knew that King’s Landing was nothing like she had expected. That she had longed for home the moment she left, and her grades were beginning to reflect it.

What they didn’t know was how she hated her classes with every fiber of her being. How the professors were condescending, how she was the only northern girl in class and struggled to get a word in during class when debating northern independence. How the only ones who gave her the time of day were the ones who wanted her in their bed. How her mental health had deteriorated to a point she didn’t think possible. How Joffrey came in at the worst possible moment, making her believe that maybe the south really could come to be a place to call home. How all that changed, and how foolish she felt that she couldn’t see it earlier.

“Alright, well, if you ever want to talk about it…”

“Thank you,” she said. She hoped that it didn’t sound too much like she was cutting him off. She loved her brother more than anything, but she knew that he struggled with talking through things. And after everything her family had done for her, she didn’t want to make things any more difficult then she had already. 

“Come on, let’s go in before we get written up. We can’t be late on my first day!” 

Something akin to relief shined in Jon’s eyes as he closed the door and locked the car behind them. It was early enough in the morning that not too many others were parked in the lot, so they got a spot closer to the door, much to her relief. During the smaller hours of the morning, cold winds still bit at her ears enough to walk faster to the door. But the feeling made her smile even more. Another reminder that she was home. 

The cold she could deal with. The heat, not so much. 

Even though it had only been a few months since she had last set foot in the Winterfell Target, Sansa shouldn’t have been so surprised that store looked no different now than it had before. Save for a few of the decorations, of course, it was if she never even left. She smiled slightly despite herself, listening to the chatter of employees as one by one they clocked themselves in.

She followed her brother through the doors to the break room, where her locker still stood as it had before. 

Her favorite, the one in the corner. 

Tears almost sprung into her eyes when she saw the locker’s door. Not a single thing had changed about it. The same decorations making up the letters in her name, spelled out with pink glimmer she had taken from the clearance section. The cutout clippings of Lady, pictures of trees and stars and other things that made her feel calm. 

“We couldn’t bear to change it, even when we had new hires. We just missed you too much!” Gilly exclaimed, opening her own locker and putting her bag in the middle. After she shut the door, she reached over to give Sansa a hug. 

“I missed you too!” She exclaimed, returning her embrace. “Oh, It feels so good to be back.” 

And she meant it. Walking in here, settling down and moving back into her old routine was just she needed. She felt like she  _ home _ again. 

“Will you be back on register? We could use another hand, now that we’re going into another busy season.” 

She shook her head and grinned. “Rodrick offered me a position in the cosmetics department as a consultant. The pay is the same, but at least I won’t have to stand!” 

Gilly’s eyes widened. “Oh my gods! Congratulations! I know you’ve always been good at that stuff. Rodrick would have been an idiot if he didn’t hire you.” 

“Thank you, Gilly..” 

Sansa smiled back again. She realized that it wasn’t just her family that she missed, either. But everyone else too. All the little interactions. If it were anyone in King’s Landing other than Margaery, they wouldn’t give a damn about what she was good at or what she wanted. All they cared about was what they could use her for. 

After she put her stuff away, she moved to her place at the the makeup counter. She gazed out at the rest of the store, watching as it slowly came to life with customers when Jon unlocked the door. He had a radio strapped to his belt, and a schedule in his hands as he coordinated the younger employees. 

Since she had been gone, he had worked his way up to a supervisor position in the stockers, giving orders as if he had been born to it. Between him and Theon, the store had never looked cleaner.

Sansa felt her heart light with pride for her brother. He had always had a knack for this sort of thing, for organizing people and giving orders. She remembered how their school counselors had tried to convince him to join the military. He had talked himself out of it, telling Sansa that his place would always be in Winterfell. A selfish part of Sansa was glad to hear it. It was hard to imagine a world where Jon was half a world away, risking his life for Daenerys Targaryen's causes in Meereen.

It was good to see him here, in action. To see him appreciated and to appreciate the work he did in turn. She watched as he joked back and forth with Ygritte, the pretty redhead who, as Sansa had been told by Tormund from the deli section, just started two weeks ago. She smiled to herself and continued to organize the lipsticks.

“Well, if it isn’t another Stark of Winterfell. There’s too many of you to keep count of around here.”

“Hi, Theon,” she said with a sigh, placing the rest of the box on the counter before walking around to the other side. 

He was talking to her as if he hadn’t seen her already since she got back. As if he didn’t just eat breakfast with their family and help Rickon with his math homework. He pulled one of the sample mascara brushes off the shelf, frowning as he fiddled with handle. 

“How does it feel to be back?” He asked curiously, casting it aside and leaning against the table. “Everything you ever dreamed of?”

She looked at him, watching the way he somehow managed to fiddle with his phone yet still manage to give her 100% of his attention. Out of everyone she had ever met, it was a skill only he could master. His mouth was curled into a smirk, and he looked up at her through his eyelashes. His shaggy hair just covered his forehead, brushing against his cheekbones.

He was the one person who looked the same since she returned. The rest of them, Jon and Arya and Bran and Rickon, had changed so much in the months since they last parted ways. Not majorly, of course, but just in the little things. How Arya cut her hair short and joined the soccer team, gaining a newfound confidence she didn’t know she lacked. Or how Rickon was growing taller and looked gangly no matter what he wore, and Bran was growing quieter and more reserved after starting high school. 

But not Theon. He looked the same. Acted the same. He was there with the rest of them when she came arrived at the train station a few weeks before. The expression on his face matching the rest of there’s. She would never admit the relief that pooled in her belly when she saw him. 

She was never as close with Theon as Robb and Jon were, but she knew his family life had never been the best. His mother had died when he was small, and left him with two cruel brothers and an emotionally distant father. His sister was the only one there for him, but she left for school somewhere in the west years ago and never looked back. Her family all but adopted him as one of their own. He even had his own room, complete with shitty band posters and a fish tank with goldfish that swam to the surface when you entered the room. 

But things had taken a turn for a worse after she left for King’s Landing. His two brothers died while on the job (what job, she did not know and did not ask), and his father’s verbal abuse only grew more aggressive. Robb drove up from Riverrun to help him move the rest of his stuff to the Starks until he managed to find a cheap apartment with Jon. 

But still, Theon was always the same. The same mischievous glint in his eyes when he greeted her at the train station, the same bad jokes and crude humor that made Robb laugh and their mother scowl. 

She would never admit it, especially not to him, but his consistency was just what she needed. 

She laughed and shook her head. “I can’t complain. It’s going to feel good making money again. You still working under Jon?” She changed the subject, hoping that he wouldn’t try to ask her any more questions.

He shrugged and nodded. “I took part time during the week and night shift on weekends. Gives me more time for coaching.”

“Oh! That’s good! I’m happy for you.”

She meant it. Theon coached the swim team for his other job, teaching little children how to doggy-paddle and swim in a straight line. When Sansa first heard what he was doing, she couldn’t help but be surprised. She had a difficult time imagining Theon teaching children anything. 

But then she thought about how he helped out around the house, helping Bran and Rickon with their homework and Arya with her vocab, no matter how much she argued. She remembered how he helped her too, even after she got into AP classes and insisted she knew more then him. She felt a pang of guilt at the actions of her seventeen-year-old elf. She wondered if she had ever apologized to him for the thing she once said. 

But the guilt immediately disappeared when she saw him walk past her and towards Jeyne, who worked in the clothing department next door. She watched how he flirted with her, eyebrows raised and smile growing. Jeyne rolled her eyes and said something that Sansa assumed was clever, before walking back towards her. 

“Theon hasn’t changed, has he?” Sansa said, rolling her eyes. 

Her friend laughed. “I’ve known him for years. You think by now he’d know that half my friends have slept with him already. If I haven't now, then I never will.” 

Sansa laughed too, shaking her head. “It’s good to know that some things never change.”

But after she said that, the smile on Jeyne’s face seemed to die a little and turn into something else. Sansa recognized the concern that touched her features in an instant. It was the same expression she had seen on just about everyone else, since she returned to Winterfell. 

“What time do you get off? We should hang out tonight after work. We can rent a shitty horror movie and order a pizza from Last Hearth.” 

Sansa thought about it. In truth, all she wanted to do was sit in her room and watch Netflix by herself while she typed away at her blog. But that’s all she had been doing since she returned to the north. She remembered the lecture that Jon had given her a few days ago, about getting out of the house. The thought of repeating that incident made her shutter.

She pursed her lips and nodded. “Four, I think. Assuming Alys isn’t late when she takes over. You?”

Jeyne seemed to light up. “I get off at five. This is perfect! I’ve been meaning to do my nails sleepover-style for  _ so long _ . Don’t get me wrong, your sister’s great, but she doesn’t  _ get it _ , you know?" She sighed. "Gods, I missed you so much.”

Sansa truly did laugh then. “Arya is...something else. What do you know about this Gendry boy she’s been hanging out with? I tried to ask her about last week, but she told me to mind my own business.”

Jeyne shrugged. “They play soccer together, I think. I’m not sure. I haven’t heard anything bad though.”

“I suppose you’re right. Jon and Theon would have beat the shit out of him if he was.” 

The rest of her shift went by surprisingly quickly. The high school students were still in school until next month, so most of her customers were moms buying new concealer and college students getting their shopping done after a long week of finals. 

Jeyne still had an hour after Sansa had already gotten off, so she found herself waiting in the break room, scrolling through her blog and responding to messages she had missed while on shift.

They rented the worst horror movie they could find, laughing at the parts that were supposed to be scary and joking with each other when the plot slowed down. After a few hours of eating pizza and Jeyne catching her up on Winterfell drama, she was more content then she’d been in months. She remembered, then, that she really _had_ missed Jeyne. Not once did she ask her about King’s Landing, as much as Sansa was sure she wanted to. She simply told her of what she had missed while she was gone. Of memories they had shared already, and jokes they both knew. 

As they laid there, stuffed with pizza and nails freshly painted, Sansa’s phone buzzed, announcing a text. Jeyne reached for her phone, but she managed to grab it before she could. “Nice try, Poole!” 

“Whatever, Stark.” 

She grinned and unlocked the screen, scrolling to see the contents of the message. 

**UNKNOWN: 11:26:** **_Hey_ ** **.**

It was from an unknown number. She frowned, staring at the the digits. A King’s Landing area code. 

She felt a sick feeling creep into her stomach. Should she block it? That was probably the wise option. 

But another voice was telling her that it was nothing. That she was overreacting. But it didn’t stop the heart thudding against her chest. 

“Who is it?” Jeyne asked.

“Nothing. Just Jon, wondering where I am.” She was surprised at how easily the lie slid from her mouth. She stood up from her seat, grabbing her bag. She was reminded at how late it had truly gotten, and if she stayed here for too much longer the next really  _ would _ be from Jon. 

“Aw, heading out already?” 

She laughed. “Eighteen years old and they still treat me like I’m thirteen. When Jon, Robb, and Theon were my age, they were doing  _ much _ worse things than watching horror movies and eating pizza.” 

“I can give you a ride, if you need it.”

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. 

“No, it’s ok. Jon’s on his way,” she lied. She knew that Jon would give her a ride if she needed it. But the texts buzzing in her phone were worrying her, and she needed to walk off the stress. She didn’t want to bother or worry either of them.

Jeyne shook her head and stood up to give her a hug. “I appreciate you, you know that? If you ever need to talk about anything, I’m here for you. We all are.” 

Sansa smiled and hugged her back. “Thank you,” she said. 

It buzzed again. 

She unlocked her phone without looking at the new texts. 

**SANSA: 11:35:** **_On my way home,_ ** she typed out and sent to Jon

Three dots popped up. 

**JON: 11:36:** **_I’ll pick you up_ ** . 

**SANSA: 11:36:** **_It’s ok Jeyne’s giving me a ride_ ** .

**JON: 11:37:** **_Ok...I’ll be up when you get back_ ** .

She smiled and put her phone away.

It buzzed again.

She bid Jeyne goodbye one last time, and left through the front door. Thinking that they were from Jon, she glanced down at her screen. Her blood ran cold when she saw that same unknown number again. She debated blocking it, following through with her promise to walk off the stress and go to sleep when she got home, but she realized that she couldn’t stand it any more. 

She unlocked the phone, reading the texts. 

**UNKNOWN: 11:28:** **_It’s Joffrey. Don’t block._ **

**UNKNOWN 11:31:** **_I'm messaging you because I wanted to formally apologize. I know I don’t deserve to talk to you, but…_ **

The message went on past the screen. A block paragraph that would take her longer to read. She swallowed the lump that was growing in her throat, and glanced down at the latest message.

**UNKNOWN: 11:32:** **_Sansa? Pls reply._ **

She put the phone down for a moment, taking a moment to take in her surroundings. Suddenly, she realized that walking home alone at night was a mistake. The trees that once comforted her seemed to close in around her, and the fresh spring air grew heavy in her lungs.

She took one long, deep breath, and opened up the third message. 

**UNKNOWN: 11:31:** **_I know I don’t deserve to talk to you, but I need you to know that I regret everything that happened in King’s Landing. It wasn’t me. It’s been a rough couple months. It’s been rough for all of us, and I was going through a really hard time. I know that this is no excuse, and that you deserve better than me. But I love you, Sans. I understand if you never want to speak to me again, but I needed you to know this. From this day until the end of my days._ **

She looked up from her phone, tears brimming the corner of her eyes. She remembered how he would hit her. Nothing too hard, never hard enough to leave bruises, but just enough to give her a message when she wore something he didn’t like or talked to another boy for too long. She remembered how he told her she couldn’t hang out with Margaery unless she gave him hourly updates. She remembered how he screamed at her when she took a last-minute train to Winterfell after Bran’s accident, or when she joined the northern independence union when he was president of the unification society.  

But she also remembered how he would immediately apologize afterwards. How he would call her “his lady” and that a good man would never strike or scream at his lady. How gentle he had always been when he kissed her under the moon when they visited the Sept of Baelor, and how he would tell her that was beautiful and how  _ easy _ it had been for her to believe him, because no one outside her family had ever called her beautiful. Life was hard, and how could she not believe a boy like that?

And she knew that after everything, she certainly had changed. Why couldn’t he?

She pulled her coat closer to her chest and shivered. Tears sprung into her eyes when she heard the phone buzz again. 

**UNKNOWN: 11:45:** **_Good night, my love._ **

She couldn’t think. She wanted to start over, to begin anew in the place where she grew up. But the world was crashing around her, and she didn’t know what to do. Her legs felt as if they were going to give out beneath her. She paced over to the nearest bench and collapsed, arms wrapped around her legs as sobs shook her body. She felt like a fool, believing she could leave everything behind by coming home. As if this wouldn't follow her no matter where she ran to. 

When her breaths finally felt steady enough, she pulled out her phone and ignored the string of texts from Jeyne asking if she got home safe. She scrolled through her contacts, searching for someone to call.

Jon would be livid if he knew she walked home alone, and her parents even more so--if they weren’t asleep already. Jeyne would tell Jon if she called her. Gilly had a newborn, and she didn’t want to bother her. Brienne was probably asleep, if she wasn't working night shift. Margaery was still in King’s Landing, and Robb was in Riverrun. 

She only had one other option. She stared down at Theon's contact, at the goofy face he made when he took his own profile picture with her phone. She clicked on his number immediately, listening numbly as it rang in the background. 

“Sansa?” He answered. “What is it?” His voice sounded blurry, as if he had just woken up. She felt a pang of guilt. 

“Oh, you’re asleep. I-I’ll ask someone else--” She didn’t realize how much her voice was shaking until she heard herself speak. 

The line on the other side went silent for a moment. She almost thought he had hung up. 

“T-Theon?” 

“Sansa, where are you?” He asked. His voice was quiet and slow, as if he feared she would hang up. 

She looked at the street signs. “Corner of King’s Street and Torrhen’s Way. Please,  _ please _ don’t tell my parents or Jon…” 

“Don’t go anywhere, I’m on my way.” She could hear the hurriness in his voice and the shaking of the phone. She could tell that he was moving while walking, the crinkling of white noise as he shifted it to the other ear. He didn’t hang up until after she voiced confirmation that he heard him, and even then, she kept her phone pressed into her ear long after he left.

There was no one else on the street, something that both relieved her and frightened her at the same time. But it was nearly midnight, after all. She wrapped her arms around her chest and pressed her chin into the top of her shoulder. 

Theon pulled up to the curb five minutes later. She expected him to unlock the door and let her in through the side, but she was surprised when he got out of the car himself. Rushing over to her side.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” He exclaimed. His eyes were wide with worry, and he reached for her arms as if she was going to collapse at any moment. 

Sansa was frozen for a moment, staring back at him. “I…” She had never seen him like this before. 

She tried to recall the tone of her voice when she called him. She gripped the phone tighter in her hands. She hadn’t meant to worry him. She hadn’t meant to worry anyone. Her mouth opened, ready to apologize, but Theon beat her to it. 

“Is it drugs? Are you on drugs?” He narrowed his eyes and stared back at her. “You don’t seem drunk. Oh my gods, did something happen with Jeyne? Jon said she was driving you back!”

Her blood ran cold. “What? Jeyne and I are fine. You didn’t tell Jon or my parents, did you? Please Theon,  _ please _ tell me you didn’t tell them.” 

He shook his head. “No, I slipped out as soon as you called. But what…” He saw the phone in her hand, all the messages lit up on the screen. 

Sansa pulled herself from him carefully, folding into herself. “It’s Joffrey,” she whispered. She gripped the phone so hard that she was afraid it would shatter. 

She couldn’t tell if it was just the light, or if his eyes darkened at the mention of her ex. For a moment, she wondered how much he knew. The ones who knew the most were Robb and Margaery. Margaery, because she was there for most of it. Robb, because of the glimpse he once caught of the bruises on her wrists when she came home for break. When he confronted her about it that evening, she broke down and told him every last detail. Though it was a nightmare through and through, she felt better knowing she wasn’t carrying the weight alone. It gave her the strength she needed to get out of that place. To get away from him. But Robb had promised to keep the details to himself. She should have known that Theon would understand better than anyone. If there was anyone anywhere who knew all the terrible truths, it was him. 

“That little prick.” 

She shivered. “Please...can we at least talk about this in your car?” 

Theon blinked, and then nodded. “Of...of course.” 

He pulled open the door for her, immediately reaching over to turn the heat higher. She shivered regardless, wishing once more that she packed more than a thin jacket. It pained her to admit that she had grown used to the mild climate down south. 

He didn’t speak at first, pulling out of the deserted neighborhood and driving to the side of town that had a gas station and a few chain restaurants lining the streets. 

They went through to the Taco Bell drive-through window. It was an old joke. When Sansa was in student council and Theon was on the swim team, their practices used to get out at the same time. He would give her a ride home, stopping at Taco Bell for crappy burritos afterwards. It became their thing, sharing the knowledge that her parents would kill them for if they knew they were eating such unhealthy things before supper.  

And Theon still remembered her order. Her exact order. After all these months, he hadn't forgotten a single detail. Two cheesy potato burritos with extra cream cheese, easy on the beef and heavy on the potato. But as soon as he handed her the food, she broke down into sobs. 

Wordlessly, she let Theon gently take the phone from her hands, scrolling through the messages Joffrey had sent her. She could hear his intake of breath as he read the longer one. 

She closed her eyes, leaning her head back on the car seat. 

“You have to block his number, Sansa,” he said in a low voice. 

She shook her head. “I know.  _ Gods _ , I know. I just saw the text and I...I don’t know. He was always kind to me, when he wasn’t…” 

In the corner of her eye, she watched Theon swallow. It would have been easy for him to finish the sentence, but she was glad he did not. 

And she was glad to see him. If it had been anyone else, they would have blocked his number for her, but not before marching south and strangling him themself. Sansa just wanted to move on, and anyone other than Theon wouldn’t have let her. 

She took her phone back, and set it on the dashboard. “I will,” she said instead, staring at the two of them. To prove her point, she reached for her phone and closed out the messages. 

"Is that why you called me?" Theon asked. "Because..." He didn't sound annoyed that she bothered him, nor relieved that it hadn't been something more serious. He genuinely needed to know. She looked him in the eyes. 

Theon had never been a good actor. If his voice didn't give him away, then his eyes always did. 

But right now, he was not lying. He genuinely wanted to know.  

She opened her mouth, pausing for a moment as she stared back. But she couldn't bring herself to put the dread she felt into words. Finally, she shook her head and snorted. "I'm just using you to pay for my burritos." 

It was a sad way to finish the sentence, but she breathed a sigh of relief when Theon played along. He raised his eyebrows dramatically and shook his head. “I'm offended, Stark. I work just as hard as you do!" 

He threw two of them in her direction, and they fell into her lap with a soft thud. 

For the rest of the night, neither of them mentioned King's Landing or Joffrey or even work. And for the first time that night, Sansa felt like maybe things would be alright. 

\--

 

If anyone's interested, [here's](https://open.spotify.com/user/dyrewolves/playlist/6V4vY7y74g2krFp38Oddzh?si=37ta1V3OQFaMDN8RUF9xPg) my Theonsa spotify playlist I've been using (so far! It's a bit bare-bones atm)


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thx for reading!

Sansa could hear Arya's loud snores in the bed beside hers. When she looked over, she could see the morning light covering only half her face. They had shared this room for years, since Arya had first been born. She remembered when she first left for college. It was strange being without her sister, even with Margaery there. 

At some point while she was gone, Arya had stuck a bunch of glowing stars on the ceiling above them, much to their mother’s annoyance. They glowed back at her, despite the sun that leaked through the curtains. She could feel the glare of them even now, as she leaned against her back pillow.

Lady sat at the end of her bed. Her snout was pressed into the backside of her knee as she slept, flank rising and falling to match her breaths. The husky always knew when things were off, and snuggled closer through the night. 

She would not lie, it was Lady whom she probably missed most of all. 

Theon dropped her off two blocks away the night before. But not before Sansa made him swear up and down that he wouldn’t tell anyone she had called him in tears. He was hesitant, but he didn’t argue. 

She was grateful for it. 

She was surprised at how easy it had been to slip back into her routine. She woke up the next morning as fully rested as she could expect to be, only glancing at her phone for a moment before pulling the red uniform over her head and heading downstairs. 

The smell of pancakes had kept her from getting ready, the familiar rumbling her stomach telling her as much. It seemed like ages ago since she last had those burritos in the front seat of Theon’s busted car. She smiled to herself and pulled her long red hair back into a bun. 

For a moment, she could almost forget that she spent most of last night with her phone on silent and her eyes squeezed together as she waited for the night to pass.

It was Jon’s turn to make breakfast. Their parents were on a business trip in the King’s Landing branch of their firm, leaving the elder of the two Starks in charge. She noted to herself that tomorrow would be her turn, and she’d have to come up with something other then cold pizza. 

Arya was stabbing at her pancakes with one hand, and her phone gripped tightly in the other. Across the table, Rickon and Bran were fighting over the last egg while Jon struggled to keep up. One eye on the stove, and the other on the two brothers. Summer and Shaggydog laid beneath them, staring up at their masters in hope that a crumb would inevitably be tossed over the edge. 

She blinked a few times, still half-asleep. “Where’s Theon?” She asked with a yawn. She was used to seeing him around at this point, helping with the younger ones after getting off for the night, or before starting his half-day shifts. The break in routine was strange. 

Jon didn’t look up, still focused on not burning breakfast. “I think he had to work late. He texted me, something about being wrapped up with one of swim friends last night? I don't remember.” 

Sansa swallowed, guilt flooding her stomach. She was thankful that Jon was too focused on the morning routine to pay any attention to what she was doing. 

When he finally finished with the eggs, she moved to help him with the dishes. 

“You came home late last night,” he said, putting them back on the shelf. “I didn’t see Jeyne’s car pull up either.” His voice had lowered a pitch, sounding more like their father than ever before.

She swallowed. She had managed to convince Theon to drop her off a block early, just so she wouldn’t be seen. She pursed her lips and debated her options. If she told the truth, Jon would want to know why she called Theon instead of one of them. And, in turn, she would have to tell him about Joffrey’s texts. 

That would involve making a decision. 

She settled with the most believable lie she could come up with in the moment, which in itself wasn’t particularly believable. “I needed the fresh air, so I decided to walk.”

“Sans,” he sighed.

“It was only a few blocks! And it was Torrhen’s street, nothing bad ever happens on Torrhen’s street.”

He shook his head, leaning against the table. They were on the other side of the kitchen island, separated from the younger siblings so they couldn’t hear their voices. When she noticed the look on Jon’s face, she quieted her voice to make sure of it. 

“I just needed to take a walk. It wasn’t far.”

She braced herself, preparing for the worst of it.

He sighed. And then he surprised her. “I won’t ask any questions. You’re an adult.” Something changed in his face. A sadness, almost, and his voice grew softer. “Just remember that you can always talk to me. About anything. Robb and Theon would say the same, but me too.” 

She looked him in the eye. “I know. Thank you,” she said. She hoped her voice hadn’t sounded so short. She knew that Jon genuinely cared about her, and she was grateful for it. 

“You work today?” He asked, changing the subject on her.

She gestured to the tan pants and red uniform. “Ten to six. You?”

He shook his head. “Not today, thank the Gods.”

“I don’t work either!” Arya’s voice shrieked from the kitchen. Sansa winced. How much had she heard? 

Knowing her little sister, probably everything. 

“You have school!” Jon called back. “Or have you forgotten?” 

She emerged from the kitchen, replacing her empty plate until it filled to the brim. “After, I meant. Coach is making us do some team-building thing?” Her face scrunched up. “I dunno.”

Jon and Sansa exchanged amused glances.

“Team-building thing, huh?” She was pleasantly surprised to see a light blush brush across her cheeks. 

“Yeah. You know, Starbucks or whatever…”

Sansa raised her eyebrow. She decided not to press, but she noted to ask Jeyne about it when she got in. “Who did you get to cover?”

There was an immediate change in her expression. She grinned mischievously, eyes dancing in the light. “Theon’s ex, Ros.” 

“Theon’s ex?” Sansa knew he was seeing someone else, but she didn’t know she was working at Winterfell Target. Arya shrugged, but didn't say anymore . "Who's his ex?" 

Arya's grin grew more evil. "Why do you need to know?"

She shook her head. "Just tell me, Arya." 

To her surprise, her sister didn't argue any more. She shrugged, lips smacking as she piled more pancakes onto her plate. “Pretty redhead, started a month after you left. Apparently she's been talking about moving to King’s Landing for years, but only decided to go for it now. She’s still not leaving for another month but broke it off anyway...says she needs to focus on making money for down payments. He was pretty broken up about it.” 

After the last part, she looked at Jon for confirmation. Sansa frowned. "You knew about this too?"

He nodded. "It's true," he said. "Pretty broken up."

"Yeah. Broken up." 

She couldn’t even imagine what that looked like. Jon still next to her, cracked a smile. "You'll have to ask about it yourself. But I can tell you, I've never seen him care about anyone that way before." 

Something strange twisted in Sansa’s stomach at the thought of the two of them together, but she ignored it. She frowned, trying to recall a pretty redhead with dreams of the south.

She knew that Theon got around. Hells, he was more than just notorious for it. But this was the first time she’d ever heard of him having an “ex,” much less someone who he called a girlfriend. 

But her thought was interrupted by a silent buzz from her back pocket. She felt her eyes widened and immediately took a breath so her siblings wouldn’t notice, but the damage had already been done. Arya gave her a strange look. 

She reached over and pretended to look at her screen. “Just Jeyne, wants to know if I’m free this weekend.”

Arya and Jon nodded, but she could feel the tension in the air. The suspicion in their eyes, 

She closed out the message before she could read it, and, more importantly, before they could see it.

“I should probably head out. The last thing I need is to get written up.”

“Yeah,” Jon said, frowning. “You don’t need a ride? I can go in early…”

She shook her head. “It’s alright, I can take the bus.”

\--

Her second day was much less eventful than the first, which was saying something, considering she hadn't had a conversation with anyone outside of her co-workers that lasted longer than three exchanges. 

After she slipped back into her routine, she could almost forget that her phone had buzzed a few more times. Once more, she ignored it. 

She pursed her lips, glancing around the store as her shift ticked into the last few hours. She could go talk to Jeyne, but she was the only one in women’s clothing until four. Theon and Jon were Gods’ knows where, stocking up for the weekend. 

For a moment, she almost debated wandering over to the entertainment section, to see this girl Theon had been so head-over-heels for. But the rational part of her stopped herself. She wasn’t a jealous girl he spurned once upon a time, nor was she a curious family member. She was just here to do her job, nothing more.

But the buzzing of her phone in her pocket was keeping her from remembering that. She looked around, just as she had before. There were no customers nearby, none enough to bother her. What would it hurt? She would have to see them eventually, even if she did decide to block him. 

She took a deep breath, and unlocked her phone.

**JOFF: 1:36:** **_Sans?_ **

**JOFF: 1:38:** **_Are you getting these? I’m worried about you_ **

**JOFF: 1:42:** **_I’ll leave you alone, if that’s what you want. Just let me know. I’ll always be here for you._ **

She sighed a breath of relief. So far, hey were harmless enough considering…

But it wasn’t enough to keep her heart from thudding painfully in her chest. She closed her eyes and leaned back against the counter, phone clutched in her hand. 

She looked back down at the last message, her mouth twisted and debating her answer. Once more for good measure, she looked up from the counter, checking to see if there were any customers (or co-workers) in the general vicinity. 

Perhaps she didn’t realize it just then, but she was checking to see if there was anyone to stop her, to tell her she was making a terrible mistake.

Perhaps she was. The biggest mistake of her life. 

But against all better judgement, she went for it anyway. 

**SANSA: 3:21:** **_Thank you for the apology, but pls leave me alone. If you text me again I’ll block you._ **

She was adding fuel to the fire, and she knew it. She put her phone away, with the full intent of ignoring it for the rest of her shift. 

Another buzz cancelled her plans. 

**JOFF: 3:23:** **_Life just isn’t the same with you down here with me, in KL. We all miss you._ **

She stared at it for a moment, unsure how to respond. She had told him to leave her alone, knowing full well that it wouldn't have been enough. And she told him she would block him. Did she have it in her to follow through?

Not wanting to make the decision, she put the phone away, and reached to organize the new shades of lipstick that just came in that morning. Theon had dropped them off himself, eyes shining brightly, his familiar voice teasing her from across the hall. As if the night before hadn’t happened at all.

She frowned at the name of the latest brand, Tyrell Rose. The design, the rosey pink shade...she already knew it would be a bestseller. She pushed them to the front, making sure the bright label was clear against the subdued colors of its neighbors. 

“Heya Stark!” 

Speaking of. She looked up when Theon greeted her. She shouldn’t have been surprised to see him, but she had to keep herself from jumping in surprise.  _ Why should you be? _ She scolded herself.  _ You’ve done nothing wrong. _

Nor was it out of the ordinary. He was nearing the end of his shift, and it had become something of a routine between the two of them. Her station was exactly in the center of the store, making it easy for him to stop on his way from one end to the other as he finished up his duties for the day. 

“Don’t you still have shelves to stock?” She asked. “It’s going to be a busy weekend. Gods’ knows how we’ll survive the winter without the fearless leadership of you and Jon.”

He shrugged, unconcerned with her perceived plight, and leaned back against the shelf. “There’s always shelves to stock, and I’m not going anywhere.”

She looked at him through the corner of her, watching his eyes dart about her end of the store. “You’re hiding from your ex, aren't you,” she stated bluntly. Theon blinked, and his mouth gaped open. 

She had to hide herself from laughing. She had never seen him look so obviously shocked before in her life.

“How did you…”

“Ros, isn’t it? The redhead who works in entertainment section?” She asked, continuing to push the lipstick up front. She became suddenly hyper-aware of her actions, and used the stocking as an excuse to do something with her hands. “Arya told me. She offered to cover her evening shift.” 

His face turned beet red, but Sansa wasn’t done yet. “How long did that go on for? I didn’t think the great Theon Greyjoy _did_ relationships.”

He scowled. “Ros was different.”

“Oh? Ros was different? I can’t  _ wait _ to tell Robb all about this. Or better yet, maybe I could introduce myself…”

There was a brief flash of panic in his eyes. “Don’t you dare,” he hissed.

She smirked, feeling lighter then she had in ages. But the small part of her that felt guilty rose to the surface when she saw how he struggled to keep in his sputtering. 

“Relax,” She said. “Her section’s on the other side of the store and most days she works opposites. I doubt we’ll cross paths.” 

“Thank you,” he said, not sounding grateful at all.

There was a beat of silence between the two of them, and Sansa could feel the tension in the air. Or perhaps she was imagining it. What, then, were you supposed to say to comfort your brothers’ best friend who broke up with a girl you never met? 

“I suppose you want to know what happened,” he said in a low voice.

She swallowed. Of course she wanted to know what happened, but she wanted to let him tell it. Instead, she watched him from the corner of her eye, slowing her movements so he knew that she was interested, but didn’t want to push. When he didn’t speak right away, she turned and met his eye.

“Only if you want to tell me.” 

He shrugged. “There wasn’t much to it, really. We started out...well, you know how we started out. First it was her place, then she started to come over to mine. But only during the day--I didn’t want Jon to know, you know? I didn’t want everybody to find out, for it to be a _ thing _ . But then I realized that maybe...I dunno, maybe I  _ did _ want a thing. I told her so, after she told me she was moving down to King’s Landing.”

“And?”

“And...and I guess she didn’t.” He shrugged, and Sansa could tell that he was trying to make it seem like it wasn’t as big of a deal to him as it actually was. She watched his face instead, watching how tense he seemed, how his jaw worked at itself. Perhaps she was wrong to think that Theon had been the only one who hadn’t changed since she’d been gone. 

Perhaps he had changed most of all. 

There was that now-familiar twist in her belly, reminding her of it. Though she would never say it to Theon after he had all but spilled his heart out to her, she knew how Ros felt. She knew what it had been like, to dream of moving somewhere far away and willing to do anything to get it. Even turning down someone who genuinely cared for her, just so she could have a taste of “freedom.” She pursed her lips, trying to think of what she could say to him.

“Well, she’s an idiot.” It was the only thing she could come up with. Theon looked at her quizzically, eyebrows drawn together in confusion. After a beat, and then another, he burst into laughter, lips spreading into a wide smile and eyes lighting up. She couldn’t help but laugh in return. 

Oh, she had missed this. 

“Maybe you’re right, Stark. Maybe you’re right.” He looked lost for a moment, eyes brushing over her. After a moment, he shook his head with a sigh and and stepped back.

“It’s just so stupid, isn’t it? I guess I thought we were perfect for each other. That after everything…”

_ You still deserve happiness, Theon _ , were the words she wanted to say to him, but she couldn’t bring herself to speak. In the past few days, she’d had more emotional conversations with her brothers’ friend then she’d had in her entire life. It was as they’d found kindred spirits in one another. But even here, even at Winterfell Target, they knew they would have to cut it short.

Theon cleared his throat.  “Well, you said so yourself. It'll be a long weekend. I ought to get going.”

Just as he said it, there was another buzzing in her pocket. Sansa felt the smile freeze on her face, and she wondered, for a moment, if he could have noticed. 

But this was  _ Theon _ , after all. 

His grin faltered. “Is he still…”

Her fake smile immediately died away. There was no pretending with him. “Yeah.”

“And have you…”

She didn’t answer. Which, she realized, was an answer in itself. 

“You’re going to have to do something about it eventually.” His voice was low, and she knew that it came from experience. She could feel the phone still in her back pocket. It felt like it was burning a hole. “You can’t keep letting him get away with whatever he wants. He doesn't control you anymore.

_ But he does.  _

He must have seen the look on her face. He took a step forward, and reached for her hand. 

“You do what you need to do,” he whispered. There was a look in his eye, something desperate and something sad. 

She didn’t answer, just looked back sadly. When he moved away, she missed the feeling of his warm hand in her own, grounding her to reality. 

He turned around to leave. “Theon,” she called. He stopped, turning around. “You don’t think he’d come here, would he?”

There was a flash of something in his eyes, but he shook his head. “There must be ten other Targets in Winterfell. There’s no way he’d know which one you work at.”

Sansa smiled, and nodded.

She waited for a moment, debating. At last, curiosity got the better of her. She closed her eyes briefly. When she opened them up, the buzzing continued. 

**JOFF: 3:14:** **_Sansa, pls answer me_ **

**JOFF: 3:20:** **_Answer me, Stark_ **   
  


**JOFF: 3:22:** **_You thought you could just leave here? I’ll always be a part of you, whether you like it or not._ **

**_JOFF:_ ** **3:31:** **_If you block me, I’ll finish what I started._ **

Another buzz. Her shaking hands almost didn’t process it, but her eyes confirmed it well enough. 

**JOFF:** **3:32:** ** _If you tell anyone, I’ll finish what I started._**

Ah. There it was. Her heart was frozen in her chest, despite the pounding in her ears. She glanced up one last time. Satisfied that she could slip away without any notice, she raced to the back of the building. There was a faint smell of cigarettes, almost masking the thick spring air

With a shaking breath, she pulled out her phone. There were no other messages from him since she had gotten here, thank the Gods. But something had come to mind, that she hadn’t even thought of since she said something to Theon. She opened up her instagram, scrolling through two years’ worth of photos. Scrolling back through King’s Landing (those not deleted, anyway), graduation, and when she was sixteen, starting her first job.

There it was. She tagged the location, map and all. There was no time to curse her younger self for her stupidity. How could she have known, anyway? Without thinking a moment longer, she deleted the post, and prayed she had been quick enough.

 

\--

 

Theonsa spotify playlist [here](https://open.spotify.com/user/dyrewolves/playlist/6V4vY7y74g2krFp38Oddzh?si=0xPJZXRUT1qm4bPsQ85vOg)


	3. Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally have the rest of this thing plotted out thank the gods. I'm also in the early stages of planning a multi-chapter, theonsa-centered season 8 re-write (for therapeutic reasons more than anything), so be on the lookout! Now finals are done, hopefully updates will be a bit more frequent. 
> 
> As always, thx for reading!!

This time, Sansa didn’t hesitate when she blocked his number.

She had hoped the action would have been enough to silence the growing fear, the fear that threatened to burst from her in a fit of tears and rage at the dinner table. And it didn’t, thank the gods. But it also didn't stop her from hesitating when she did something simple the next morning, like making breakfast for her siblings before they each went their separate ways.

Even then, she could feel her heart thudding mercilessly against her chest. And it was growing near too much to bear.

But what could she do? His number was blocked, and he hadn’t contacted her since. The posts were deleted. The only thing left to do was move on, and hope for the best.

So that's what she tried to do. Instead of admitting her fears and coming up with a plan, she stacked the plates on top of each other and tried to forget.

Rickon and Arya were already gone when she woke up, each off to their respective early morning practices. For Sansa, the days were beginning to blur together. When she was living on campus, it was easy to find herself longing for the weekends. Longing for the moments when she didn’t have to be in class, getting drunk at parties and not answering to anyone but herself the next day (ceasing to be the case, as her relationship with Joff grew darker and darker).

Her design classes were different, though. They were filled with people just like her--commuters who had better things to do then waste their years with people who didn’t give two shits about them. Not that she was complaining. It was just what she needed. A separation between school and social life. Perhaps that's how things went so wrong so quickly the first time around. 

She sighed and began scrubbing at the plates, struggling to get the syrup off. She couldn’t even have a pleasant memory of her time at King’s Landing, not without it somehow relating back to Joff. There weren’t many she could talk about it with either.

There was always Robb. But the thought of calling him now, just as he was finally starting to get his own life on track, made the guilt too much to bear. She supposed there was Theon now, too. But she didn’t want to bother him either. He had done enough for her. More than she could ever expect.

And then there was Margaery. But they had been texting less and less these days. It hurt her more than she realized it would, to see how they drifted apart so easily. But it was an inevitable thing. They were on opposite sides of the country, they couldn’t exactly get their nails done on the weekends.

Sansa thought about her. She was the only person she truly had, back when everything around her was sinking lower and lower.

She sighed and closed her eyes, feeling the phone between her hands as she paced out of the kitchen and back to her and Arya’s bedroom. She still flinched every time it buzzed, a harsh reminder. She would be doing so for a long time. She decided not to check it, not even once. If it was work, they could go a day without her. She wasn’t scheduled to come in anyway, and she needed to the time to recollect her thoughts the best she could.

She leaned against her bedpost and stared at the stars taped to the ceiling. There was classwork to be done, things due that evening yet to be started. She had managed to go this long without falling behind, and she would never forgive herself if she fell back now. She was finally studying something she had an interest in, and she needed to keep up the habit for as long as she could.

Sansa yawned once more, and prepared herself for the day, laying out her outfit and singing softly along with the radio in the background. If Arya was here, she would tease her relentlessly for it.

But for once, she had the entire house to herself. She put away all the plates, slowly ticking off her responsibilities. Save for her schoolwork, of course.

And worrying about Joff.

At least Jon was out for the day, working a double before inevitably going out for drinks with Sam and that girl she had seen him with. Ygritte, her name was. Sansa had tried to asking him about it, once. She had never seen him look so startled in her life.

She decided not to push.

She sat at the kitchen table, textbooks playout out across the surface and Arya’s borrowed charger shoved into her laptop.

And things were good, for a little while. She was almost done with her assignments for the week. Though she wasn’t completely satisfied with her work, she also knew that she was far from the best headspace. Still, she was already beginning to brainstorm future projects, something she hadn’t found herself doing in ages. That must have been a good sign.

There was a knocking on a the door, not enough for her to raise her head. Jon strode through the kitchen, face drawn into that now-familiar brooding expression. Sansa had noticed it becoming more and more commonplace, ever since she returned from King’s Landing. A reminder that perhaps more had changed here then she had thought.

“I thought you had work,” she said, looking up.

He scoffed. “Yeah, so did I. Forgot this.” He reached over and held up the red polo, pulled out from the dryer.

Sansa shrugged. “You should keep a spare in your lock. It’s what I do.”

Jon rolled his eyes. “Do you ever get tired of being right?” His voice was not serious.

She laughed. “You know I do.”

They were quiet for a moment. She tried to tell herself it wasn’t an awkward silence. And it wasn’t. Not _really_. But there was a tenseness in the air that wasn’t there before. Jon knew she was keeping something from him, but he was unwilling to draw it from her just yet.

For that, she couldn’t help but be grateful.

“You alright?” He asked, glancing at the homework sprawled across the tables. As of recently, it had spilled into her lap too.

She gave him a wry grin. “I’m good. You have a good day at work, yeah?”

He nodded, and opened her mouth. But just before he could speak, there was a knock at the door. He and Sansa exchanged confused looks. For a moment, Sansa felt a thrill of fear pass through her, even though she knew there was no real reason for it.

Jon gave her a strange look before getting up to answer it. Sansa strained to hear the voices, trying to pick them out. She could hear Jon’s voice. She tensed up when she heard it grow argumentative. She didn’t walk over, though. Not until she heard a strained, but familiar one, arguing back.

“I don’t know you, I _doubt_ she knows you--and if she doesn’t want to see you!” Jon growled.

“Yeah, well, lets see what she has to say about that herself, yeah?” The voice argued back. 

“Jon!” Sansa gasped, interrupting as she burst into the landing.

Margaery was at the door, eyes wide.

“Marg? What are you doing here?”

She set her jaw, lifting her chin in a way that only a lifetime in the south could accomplish. “As I was telling your brother, I came to visit my aunt. And I _would have texted_ , but it was a bit last minute. She’ll be out of town for a bit, so I thought…”

“A southern girl with an aunt in Winterfell, a bit convenient, isn’t it?” Jon snarled.

Sansa glared at him. “Jon! Margaery was my roommate. And my _friend_.”

Jon relaxed a bit, but his eyes were still clouded with suspicion as he nodded. “Right, uh...sorry,” he muttered. Margaery rolled her eyes.

“I think that’s enough of that. Sansa, can I talk to you?” She glanced at Jon. “In private?”

Sansa blinked in surprise. She was still reeling in shock from her sudden appearance in the first place. But there was a look in her eyes. Desperation, perhaps. Sansa wasn’t an idiot. She knew Margaery didn’t have any family north of Moat Cailin, much less all the way up in Winterfell. Whatever she had come here for, it must have been urgent.

“Ok,” she said. She glared at Jon when he protested, and he closed his mouth.

She led her to her bedroom, taking care to shut the door behind her. “Your brother obviously cares about you,” she said, eyebrows raised. “I take it you haven't told him the full story?”

Sansa rolled her eyes. “All he knows is that I made more enemies than friends. But he’s already late for work, and Arya had practice this morning. What is it Marg? Why didn’t you text?”

Margaery frowned. “That’s just it!” she exclaimed. “I’ve been texting you all morning, Sans. Showing up at your home and dealing with overprotective brothers? I promise you, that was the _worst_ case scenario. Why didn't you answer?" 

Sansa looked down at her phone. Sure enough, a string of texts decorated her screen, Margaery’s name in the description. She swallowed guiltily. “I’m sorry, I-”

She held up a hand. “Don’t worry about it. I think I can take a guess why you haven’t exactly been hovering over your phone. I came here to warn you, took the first train after I heard, knew that I needed to get here first.”

Sansa felt her heart freeze in her throat. “Warn me? About what?” She already knew what.  

Margaery stared. “Joffrey knows where you work. He thinks he can convince you to go back to King’s Landing, to get back together with him.”

“How do you know?” She was surprised at how calm her voice was, when her mind and her heart were anything but.

“Loras told me.”

“Oh.” Loras was dating Joff’s uncle, and spent more time with his family then he ever cared to. But it was a source of relief for Sansa, in those dark times towards the end of her last semester. She was able to get her news through Margaery, rather than finding out for herself.

“Sansa,” she said, voice dropping low. “You have to report this to the police.”

She shook her head. That was out of the question. “The police won’t do anything, you know that as well as I do.”

Margaery pursed her lips. “You have to do _something_. Tell you brothers, at least.”

“You saw how Jon reacted when someone he didn’t know showed up at the door asking for me. How do you think he’ll react when I tell him my abusive ex knows where I work?”

 _And how would Theon react?_  She knew exactly how Theon would react. This _new_ Theon, not the old one she had grown up with. He would ask if she needed anything, and he would tell her that everything would be alright. He might even wrap her in his arms, and take her out for shitty burritos.

And everything would be ok. Or at least, it would feel ok. Until it didn’t.

She couldn’t put Theon through that. She couldn’t drag another person through the mud, willingly or otherwise. And it shouldn’t be his fault that she didn’t know how to finish what she started.

That was the ugly truth about all this. The thought that echoed through her entire journey back to Winterfell. The one that told her she was never brave, or broken, or even hurt. She was a weak little girl, who had given up as soon as it things became difficult. It was the real reason she hadn’t told anyone what had truely happened, save for Robb. She couldn’t bear to see the expressions on their faces. On her _parents_ faces most of all.

That said, there was something about saying the words out loud that made them choke in her throat. _Abusive ex_. It seemed she had to remind herself daily that she escaped. That she was never going back, not if she didn’t want to. But how could she have been so foolish? To think none of this would ever follow her?

A thought flashed through her, the image of Joffrey showing up at Target. At _their_ Target. The thought made her near sick to her stomach.

“Can’t Renly do anything?” She asked uneasily.

Sansa already knew the answer, but Margaery shook her head. “His own mother couldn’t control that little piece of shit.” Her voice grew softer. “What are you going to do?”

Unwillingly, she felt tears spring into her eyes. “He doesn’t know where I live,” she whispered. “But he did…” She couldn’t speak. She showed Margaery the texts instead. She gasped.

“Sansa...you _have_ to report this.”

She shook her head. They’ve played this game before. “You know I can’t prove that it’s him. They’re just words on a screen.”

This time, Margaery did not argue. 

\--

She didn’t finish her homework that day.

She didn’t go into work during the next one either. She managed to pull herself together enough to call in sick at least. But she could tell from Rodrick’s voice on the other end that he didn’t quite believe her.

So the texts started to come in.

They were all from numbers she recognized, thank the gods. They were from her friends, her co-workers. People who hadn’t seen her, and wanted to know if she was ok. Jeyne, asking if she needed anything. Arya, telling her not to cough all over her pillow. Gilly, telling her that she saved some of the day-old lemon cakes from the bakery for her when she gets back. Her only solace was that no one mentioned Joff. If he had come in, at least he wasn’t asking after her.

And then there was Theon. Of course, fucking _Theon_.

 ** _Theon:_** **10:09:** **i know ur not actually sick, but I get off in ten & im bringing those lemon cakes Gilly promised**

She closed her eyes and leaned back against the headboard. Of course he’d be the only one to guess it. Normally, the thought of lemon cakes after already skipping breakfast that morning would be heavenly. But the thought of eating anything right now made her stomach turn.

Margaery stayed the night before. She introduced herself to all her siblings, still under the guise of stopping by to visit a long-lost aunt.

And it was nice. She had seen Sansa at her worst, and after everything they had been through, she trusted her completely. And of course she had missed her. They had drifted further apart, being on different sides of the country and all. But she had missed her friend. They promised to update each other, during the next few days. 

“And promise me you’ll tell someone. Anyone,” Margaery whispered to her when she pulled her into one last hug. The train roared in the background as it pulled into the platform. “You can’t go through this alone.”

Sansa breathed out. “I will,” she promised. It would take a long time to erase the image of her doubt-filled face. 

And so she was gone, and Sansa was in her bed. Phone clutched in hand as she waited for Theon to show up at her front door.

Ten minutes, he said.

It ended up being less than five. 

Messy hair, rumpled uniform, and a plate full of lemon cakes. His smile was crooked, and she ignored the sympathy in his eyes.

“I tried to not to eat too many of them. I really did. But my _gods_ , Gilly does not fuck around,” he admitted.

She almost laughed at the apologetic tone in his voice.

Her stomach turned at the sight of them, but she ate them anyway. She didn’t want him to see how shaken she was, though she could tell from his expression that he probably had a good idea.

And it was nice. They sat on her bed, watching whatever shit sitcom was on daytime television, laughing at dumb jokes and complaining about annoying co-workers. For a moment, she could almost forget. Until Theon, _fucking_ Theon, decided not to let her.

“What happened?” He asked. His voice was soft. She looked into his sea-blue eyes and saw how _genuine_ they were.

Had they always been?

“You never call in sick. Not once. What happened, Sansa? Is it…”

She could help it, and she couldn’t stop it. She broke down and told him everything. The texts he had sent her at work, how he threatened her family. They were the only thing she had left, and he _threatened_ them. Like it was nothing. She told him how Margaery showing up at her front door and told her he knew where she worked now. She couldn't bear the thought of facing him again. Even when surrounded by people who cared about her. 

And she was right. About everything. Theon pushed the lemon cakes to the side and held her in his arms. They were in her bed, his arms around her and her face pressed into his chest. She breathed in the faint smell of cigarettes and cheap cologne, and a hint of lemon.

Her breath hitched, but he didn’t say anything. She could feel his nose pressed into her hair, and his hands running up and down her arms softly.

“I won’t let him anywhere near you,” he said, voice soft. “I’ll kill him if I have to.”

She laughed, but there was a seriousness in his voice that made her hesitate. In that moment, she didn’t doubt that he would.

She thought about when they were children. The young, skinny boy who spent more time at their house then his own. How he used to follow her brothers around like a shadow, and how he teased her and Jeyne when she talking about moving to the big city.

That boy was gone now. But so was that girl. And at some point, she had fallen asleep to the rhythm of his heartbeat pressed against her ear. It beat in tune with the rain outside her window, lulling her out of consciousness.

\--

 

Theonsa playlist [here](https://open.spotify.com/user/dyrewolves/playlist/6V4vY7y74g2krFp38Oddzh?si=ouX-b6s8QLSd2qCZtSlgPA)


	4. Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Decided to write in Theon's POV for this one. It was difficult, and definitely could have been better, but it was still fun to write. Thx for reading!!

Theon didn’t remember where he was when he woke the next morning. All he knew was the soft winter breeze that drifted through the window and against his cheek. Just barely open, enough for the birds to call across the front lawn. And the feel of the lights as they burned against his eyelids, reminding him that they had been left on through the night.

Still half-asleep and very much ill-prepared for the day, he blinked open eyes. Something was moving against him, shifting with the morning air. He glanced down, taking in the red hair that was pressed beneath his chin, the puffs of breath against his arm.

He froze. All memories were rushing back. Sansa. Joffrey. His promise to kill him if he hurt her again. _Again_. Sansa never told him the full story of what had happened in the south, and he hadn’t asked. He knew better than most what it was like for ignorance to preferable to the alternative. So he did what he could--what he would have given anything for someone to do for him.

He told her he would always be there for her. And he listened. 

He would always be grateful, that she trusted him with this. That she trusted him enough with at least a few of her secrets. He looked down at her, careful not to move his chin too much to wake her from her sleep. 

He didn’t want to move at all, in truth. It was the first time he had slept a full night in….well, in as long as he could remember. When he looked down at her face, peaceful and serene against the morning sun that gleamed through the window, he began to believe it might have been the same for her.

He wondered how long he could get away with this, resonating here in the moment. He didn't have to wonder for long. Sansa groaned slightly, shifting against him. Though she did not awake, the lines her face relaxed slightly as she nuzzled closer. He felt his heart sink at the sight of it. 

Gods be damned. 

He was in love with her.

He was in love with Sansa Stark. 

He didn’t know when he figured it out. Perhaps when he was a gangly ten-year-old, all shouts and limbs, following Robb around like a shadow until his little sister became a part of his life whether he wanted her to or not. Or perhaps it was later, when he found himself led down a darker path. He was farthest from the Starks then. Hells, there was a point where he wasn’t even speaking to Robb, much less the rest of them. 

But that was a long time ago, and his crimes have long since been forgiven (or rather, after a good few days in drug treatment and a harsh scolding from Mrs. Stark). 

But Sansa...Sansa was so  _ good _ . He remembered the times they spent together before she went off to school in the south. It wasn't much. Certainly not as much as he wanted to, but even then, he knew he was far gone. 

And then _she_ was gone.

Until she wasn't.

And it was a real shame, for someone like her to spend all her time around someone like him.

Still, he knew she had a rough time in King’s Landing. And he knew it would be foolish to believe he could understand. He could never understand. But perhaps he might _know_. He hoped that would be enough.

He forced himself to look away, to reach for his phone and check the time. Her auburn hair brushed against his arm.

6:45 a.m.

“Fuck,” he hissed beneath his breath. “ _ Fuck _ !” 

He looked down at Sansa, at her still-closed eyes. He grimaced, mouth turning into a thin line, and began to detangle himself from her arms. He tried to be extra careful not to wake her. If he did, he wasn’t sure he could ever forgive himself. He could see in the shadows that grew beneath her eyes ever since her return...it must have been a good long time, since she had gotten a full night of rest. 

If it were anyone else, he would have just texted them later. But this was  _ Sansa _ . And after everything, it certainly didn’t seem appropriate. He couldn’t bear to thought of her waking up in a panic to the buzzing of his text, thinking it was Joffrey. 

And a note would have been weird. But not saying  _ anything _ would have been just as weird. He shook his head and reached for a pen and paper, mind already made up. 

_**Sans-** _

_**Swim practice in the morning--didn’t want to wake you.** _

_**-Theon** _

He cringed at the note. It was stupid, even thinking about it. He shoved the crumbled paper and sighed. Once last time, he looked down at Sansa. Her head was pressed into the pillow next to her, mouth curved into a soft smile and eyes closed. That hair was spread around her a like a halo.

A thought struck him. It was ridiculous…but it couldn’t be as ridiculous as leaving a  _ note _ . 

He shook off his denim jacket and laid it across the thin sheets. She shifted beneath the weight, but didn’t wake up. He let out a sigh of relief, and paced out the door.

He walked down the spiral staircase, just as he’d done thousands of times before. He knew this house better than the one he had actually grown up in. It seemed so long ago, now. Like life hadn’t started until he moved to Winterfell. But his father was a dick, and his mother was beneath the ground. Yara had grabbed him and ran to the first job that would take her.

Winterfell was too far from the sea for either of their liking, but it was home.

He tried moving back to Pyke after graduation, to see if home was the same one as he remembered. Yara warned him, in an anger he had rarely seen, that their father wasn’t the man he remembered. But she was going to college, leaving him behind. And even if she wasn’t, Theon was a different  _ person _ in those days. He hadn’t known what was right in front him. 

And he should have  _ listened _ . He never should have left Winterfell. He still remembered showing up on the Starks’ doorstep, tears in his eyes and everything he owned in a cardboard box. They were his family. He would never forgive himself, for not realizing it sooner.

He walked sheepishly through the kitchen. There was no reason to feel guilty, or even strange, in these hallways. He wasn't doing anything that he hadn't done a thousand times before. But still, leaving Sansa Stark's bedroom in the morning wasn't something he wanted to explain to Jon anytime soon. He shuttered, and supposed he should just be grateful that Robb was still in Riverrun. 

He shook his head and slipped his shoes on, careful not to make too much noise. 

There wasn't much time for him to do much else. Swim practice started in thirty minutes, and he couldn’t afford to be late. And he still had to stop by the bank and drop off his check, and by the bakery to--

“Theon,” a voice interrupted his thoughts, pulling him into reality. 

He froze, the world slowing around him with his thoughts.  _ Damn _ . How could he have forgotten? Mr. and Mrs. Stark were on a business trip in King’s Landing, Sansa and Jon left to care for the rest of the Stark children. Theon on some evenings too, when he was off shift and the rest of them were not.

There was a funny expression on Jon’s face. Something beyond anger. His eyes looked at him, and flickered back to where he had come from. 

The spiral staircase.

Sansa's room. 

Theon was frozen to the spot. There was a gleam in Jon's eyes. 

Realization.

It was only in an instant. Jon was across the room, pinning Theon against the wall, face inches from his own.

“You piece of shit,” he snarled. “My  _ sister _ ?” 

“I...what?” He paused. “No, it’s not what it looks like…”

He shook his head, face still screwed in fury. “I will kill you, Greyjoy. Right here.” 

Theon sighed, trying his best to remain calm. But he knew Jon  _ would _ kill him, if given the chance.

“I swear,” he said. “Nothing happened.” 

Jon stared at him for a long moment, eyes narrowed. Finally, he released him from his grip. “I’m not letting you go because I believe you,” he warned. “I’m letting you go because if we’re too loud, Sansa will wake up. I don’t know the last time she’s had a full night of sleep, and I’m sure as hell not letting you ruin it for her.”

He put his hands up in surrender. 

There had always been something tense between him and Jon. It wasn’t like with Robb, whom he had been friends with first. Jon was only their half-sibling, and Theon knew he had felt out of place amongst the rest of them. Not that it should have mattered. He had the Stark name, as much one of them as any other. But Theon...was not. Even when he lived here, he was always just a family friend. Perhaps that came across in his interactions with him. Jealousy, that he could be so easily accepted. 

But that was a long time ago. Theon had been through enough to know that. 

He wriggled from his grip, looking him in the eye.

“Speak,” said Jon. “Now.” 

Theon gulped. “I heard from work when she called in sick. Gilly offered some of the day-old lemon cakes from the bakery, so I brought them over after my shift. We fell asleep watching shit horror movies.” He paused for a moment, searching Jon’s face for any sign of belief. He didn't know why he was so desperate for him to believe him now. 

It wasn’t like he was _lying_. 

At last, Jon signed, leaning against the door behind him. “She wasn’t really sick, was she,” he said. A statement, not a question.

Theon paused at that, trying to decide how much he could betray Sansa’s trust. How much he could tell him. Jon answered the question before he could decide. “You don’t have to tell me. I think I have a pretty good idea...her old roommate, Margaery, showed up yesterday." He shook his head. "I’m not stupid. I know she wasn’t here to visit her aunt. Something’s going on, with...what happened, when she was in King’s Landing. Whatever it was that happened.” 

Theon hesitated. At last, he nodded. “Yeah,” he said. Something like that.” 

Jon fixed with him another stare. “She trusts you. You know that, right? If you hurt her…”

“I would never hurt her.” His voice was strong. This time, he looked Jon straight in the eye, returning his with equal fever. “ _ Never _ .” 

“She’s been through enough already. More than I could ever guess. But I’m glad she’s telling someone. Even if it’s not me, at least…” he grimaced. “I trust that you’re doing this for the right reasons, Theon Greyjoy. I see the way you look at her.” His eyes softened, but only just a bit. “And I know you’re in love with her.” 

He grinded his teeth. There was no point lying. Not to Jon. 

Perhaps he knew him better than he originally thought. 

At last, he broke eye contact. “I’m late for work,” he murmured. 

Jon let him go. 

\--

He barely made it to practice on time. And even then, the day went by in a blur. He rushed to work as soon as he could afterwards, the sun already sinking in the sky. He had grabbed an evening shift at the last minute hoping to earn some extra money before the busy swim season started back up. 

He clocked in the same as he’d done a thousand times. Pulling on his red uniform, watching customers filter in and out in the corner of his eye. Once more, his mind drifted away from his actions, back to the previous night. He didn’t know what Joffrey looked like, but he vowed to search his name the moment he had a chance. 

He meant what he said to Sansa, that night. 

He wouldn’t let him anywhere near her. Not if he had any say in it. The fear in her eyes when she showed him the texts was all it took for him to know.

He was stuck in the produce department for the night. Taking inventory of oranges that came in from Volantis. 

“Rough night last night, Greyjoy?” A voice came from behind the table. Theon looked up, startled. Samwell Tarly smiled back at him from behind the counter. 

“Something like that.”

Sam laughed. “I thought someone called in for Jon. He’s not coming in tonight, is he?”

“I dunno. He’s your friend.” He hadn’t meant for it to sound so harsh, but the words came out before he could stop them. Rather than looking offended, Sam just rolled his eyes.

"Well, alright then." 

He looked back down, focusing on the pallets. Work was going by slowly. If it wasn't the concern biting in the back of his mind, then it was the intense boredom weighing down his feet. He wasn't used to working an overnight without at least one other Stark present. So instead, his mind drifted back to the night before. The good parts. The lemon cakes and re-runs. Sansa's laugh. He almost didn’t look up, when a voice called for him. 

“Excuse me? You work here, right?”

He blinked and looked up. “Uh, yeah,” he said. 

“Good, good.” It was a blond-haired boy. Theon would put him around the same age as himself, but his facial structure must have made him look younger. 

He frowned slightly, and lifted his chin. “How can I help you?”

The boy smirked slightly. “You wouldn’t happen to know a pretty redhead who works here? I don’t remember her name...just that she worked in the makeup department.”

His heart froze in his chest. It couldn’t have been Joffrey. If it was Joffrey, he would’ve asked for her name outright. Although...maybe he was smart enough to know the rest of them would be suspicious if he did. 

And he would have been right to think so. 

He did have the same look. Blond hair, the sort of eyes that were tough to look into for too long. There was no harm in being too careful, he decided, as he narrowed his eyes and took a step closer. 

“Why are you asking?”

The boy shrugged. His face remained casual. Theon searched his face for something else, anything else. But it hadn’t changed once through the entire exchange. 

“I spoke to her earlier. Seemed like a nice girl. I was hoping to get her number.”

Theon gritted his teeth. “She’s not working today.”

He took some satisfaction when the boy's face finally faltered. “Oh, ok. I’ll...I’ll stop by later then, I suppose.” The boy flashed him another smile that didn’t reach his eyes, and walked out of the department. 

“What was that all about?” Sam asked.

“I don’t know.”

Theon watched him go, eyes still narrowed and chin lifted. He just as easily could have been someone else. Sansa was a pretty girl...Gods, what was he thinking? She was _stunning_. It would make perfect sense for random strangers to wander in, asking for her number. 

But there was something about this one that set him on edge. Something about his voice, the way he moved. 

He made a silent promise to keep an extra lookout on the makeup department in the coming days.

 

 

\--

 

Theonsa playlist [here](https://open.spotify.com/user/dyrewolves/playlist/6V4vY7y74g2krFp38Oddzh?si=iOuyyK3ETeC0XcIz-1BTMA). 


	5. Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Most of this chapter ended up being random conversations with all the plot happening at the end so yikes. Thanks for reading!!

Sansa felt better the next day. She woke with the sun in her eyes and her face pressed into her pillow, warm from the morning sun. The first thing she noticed was an unfamiliar, but not unpleasant weight settled on her back. It was warm against her, different from the usual three blankets she refused to give up. She twisted, pulling them off. The other side of her bed was crumpled from where Theon had sat the night before. When she shifted to the other side, she finally reached the source of the weight. It was his jacket, left behind in a rush that morning. She smiled groggily, curling with it against her.

Things were beginning to slip back into her mind. Conversations with Margaery, with Theon. It was a good decision, to confide (at least some) of her secrets with him. She had forgotten what it felt like to be comfortable with someone--to be  _ truly  _ comfortable. Her mouth quirked into a smile as she looked over, noticing the light hum of the television. 

Had neither of them noticed? Not even Theon, in whatever ungodly hour of the morning he woke up? She turned if off and paced back into the bathroom, staring at her reflection in the mirror. 

Something in her next few actions was fearfully automatic. How she reached for her cell, already dialing Robb’s contact. It had been a long time since she had last spoken with her brother, and she knew he'd be up by now. She pressed the speaker button and leaned her head back against the wall, letting the sound echo through the bathroom.

“Hey Sans!” His voice called out. “What’s up?” 

She closed her eyes. For a brief, terrifying moment, she was afraid a few stray tears would slip out from the corners of her eyes. She had missed her brother’s voice. Missed hearing his advice, even if it was admittedly not always the best advice. 

If Theon understood how she felt, and Margaery what had happened, then Robb understood what it was _like_. She had gone to college on the other side of the continent, but for everything she had forgotten, she was grateful that she never forgot that Robb was the one to do it first. 

_ Be brave like Robb _ , she had told herself. 

And she did. 

So she was. 

Robb was the first person she called when things started to go bad. He was there for her, told her things would get better. Even when she didn’t quite believe them so much herself. 

“Hey.” Her voice didn’t crack, something that surprised her.

“Hey yourself,” he replied. There was a softness in his voice after he heard her speak, as if he knew that something was off. Sansa had to laugh. Even when she was able to disguise it, even when it was just one word, Robb always found a way to know. 

“How’s School? How’s Riverrun?” She didn’t want to launch into it. Didn’t want to launch into why things were just finally starting to go ok, when they suddenly were not. She  _ especially _ didn’t want to launch into why the Theon she found was so different from the Theon she left behind. Or, perhaps more importantly, why that was suddenly so important to her. 

Robb laughed. “Same as always. You’re favorite uncle is being a hard grader as always, but nothing new.” 

“Who, Edmure?” Sansa rolled her eyes. “I haven’t seen him since I was, I dunno, ten?”

“Sounds about right, yeah.”

Their uncle was teaching history at Robb’s university. It was a coincidence that he ended up in most of his classes, but their mother liked to make fun of them for it. She said that in all the times he managed to avoid the Stark clan, they always somehow drew themselves back to their family. 

“Anyway, the real reason I called is to know if you’re still coming home this month. I have this grand plan to steal your room, and can’t have it thwarted so easily.”

“Thwarted? Are those the fancy words they teach you in King’s Landing?” 

“I don’t know, is avoiding the rest of us something you learned in the Riverlands?” Her voice was joking, and she had meant it to be light, but Robb’s reply was surprisingly sad. 

“Tell that to my advisor. I swear, this internship is going to kill me.”

“You’ve gotten through worse before,” she said. “I’m sure you’ll crush anything that stands in your way.”

She had no idea what, exactly, he was mean to crush. She didn’t even know what his internship was exactly. Only that it involved something with a politics, and that it was unpaid. The second part she knew for certain, because he he complained about it every chance he got. 

“Yeah…” he trailed off. “How is everyone? I know you, Jon, and Theon are looking after the rest. The house hasn’t burned down yet, has it?”

She laughed. “Not yet. A few close calls, but not yet.” 

“And you…”

“I’m back at work, and just started my first semester at that design thing I was telling you about.” 

“Good,” he sounded relieved. “That’s good.” 

“Robb…”

“What is it?”

She hesitated. “I wish I...I wish I would have known how much everything changes, when you're away for so long.”

“How do you mean?” There was a trickle of fear in his voice, as if expecting her to break at any moment. She recognized it well. It was that same voice Jon got sometimes. Sansa shook her head, realizing he had no idea what she was talking about. She shook his head as if he was actually there to see it.

“It’s just…” 

She realized that wanted to talk about Theon. About how nice he was being, all of a sudden. She wanted to know what Robb knew. Whatever it was that he knew. But she knew for herself how that would sound to his best friend. To her  _ brother _ . 

“When did Rickon get so tall?”

He laughed. Booming laughter. “Hells if I know. I’ll tell you what--I have work in a few, I’ll call you back?”

“Of course,” she replied. His voice stopped with the connection cutting out, and she set the phone back on the counter with a sigh. 

When she walked back to her room, something else caught her eye. It was a crumpled note, one that wasn’t there before. She pulled it from the bin, scanning it over, and rolled her eyes when she read the contents. Theon must have thought it was stupid to leave a note. Perhaps it was. But something burned in her stomach at the thought of his even contemplating it. But those thoughts were better left untouched, in her experience. She yawned and was about to step down the staircase, when she froze, remembering the jacket pulled around her arms. She took it off reluctantly, and set it back where she found it on the bed. Her siblings would never let her hear the end of it if they knew Theon had spent the night. She shivered, not even wanting to think about what Jon would say. 

“Where is everyone?” She yawned, sitting back at the table. Arya was on the other end, face buried into her laptop.

“Fuck if I know,” she said, equally as groggy as she tapped her her keyboard.

Sansa rolled her eyes. “You do realize finals aren’t for another two weeks, right?” 

“Well  _ yeah _ , but if I don’t finish now, I’ll fail chem. If I fail chem, I can’t play.” She scowled. “Stupid rule. Since when does chem have anything to do with whether or not I can kick the other team’s balls?”

“Figuratively or literally?”

“Do university scouts care either way?” 

Sansa shrugged, and supposed it did not. She sat down at the table, pouring herself a bowl of some of the rather knobby-looking cereal. Soon enough, she was out the door, catching the last bus till noon. 

By the time she arrived at the Target, she had already talked herself into feeling better. The talk she had with Theon had helped. Gods, it had helped more than she realized. And he had brought up a good point. One she hadn’t even thought of. 

If anything were to happen, she didn’t _ have _ to go through with it. So what Joffrey came in? So what he demanded to speak with her? This was her workplace, and he was unwanted. There was no need to play his game. Unless he was buying something, all she would have to do was tell someone. And even then, who would they believe? A loyal employee for a shitty customer? Even if something did manage to happen, it would be on file. Physical proof. She had thought of that final part herself, and she wore her knowledge like armor, stepping through the doors as she had a thousand times. 

She greeted Jeyne when she walked in, her friend grinning back.

“You work the evening again?” She asked.

Sansa nodded, and rolled her eyes. “It’s going to be a busy one." 

“How do you know that?”

“It’s been too slow the last few days.” 

They laughed at that. It was cynical to say so, but when she thought about all she had been through in King’s Landing, the times in which being a cynic had saved her, she realized she didn’t even care. 

Then she thought of something else. Arya’s strange dedication to her chem final at the breakfast table. Her insistence on showing up to practices and events she normally wouldn’t have thought twice to skip. “Do you know if Arya’s still seeing that Gendry boy?” She had never met him herself, and she hadn’t dared ask her herself. 

Jeyne shrugged. “How should I know? Ask her yourself.” 

“She’s your friend too. I’m just curious.” Her mouth curved into a smile. Never in a million years did she think Arya would end up caring about some boy. 

Jeyne mouth flickered into a smile. “Why do you want to know? Sounds like someone’s projecting.”

Sansa paused. “What are you talking about?” That familiar feeling in her stomach twisted strangely. She gazed back in confusion. 

“You’re spending an awful lot of time with Theon Greyjoy. I can’t say that I saw it coming, but seriously?  _ Theon _ ? I mean, I guess I get it. The way he looks at you? At the very least he’s in love with you.”

Everything froze around her. “Wait...you think me and Theon...?”

Jeyne paused. “I just thought…”

She laughed. She couldn’t help it. It was the most ridiculous thing she’d ever heard. “No,” she said. “Definitely not.” 

Jeyne shrugged. “If you say so.” 

Sansa ignored the disbelief in her friend’s voice. She never should have told Jeyne about that night she came back from her house. At least she hadn’t told her about last night. Now, she decided, she never would.

The rest of her shift was...fine. She had been right after all. It was busier than she had mentally prepared for.  _ Much _ busier. But Jeyne's words were gnawing at the back of her mind.  Theon had visited her often during her shifts, ever since she had returned. Today was no exception. But it wasn’t because he liked her in that way. Of course it wasn’t because he liked her in that way. They were basically siblings, after all, and her station was always at least the least busy. 

But recently, he had taken to pretending like the night before never happened at all. As if he hadn’t (considered) leaving a note for her like a bad 80’s after school special, and how he actually did leave his jacket. And she was more than alright with that arrangement. Her mind was far away, given over to the possibility of making it to the last hour of a Joffrey-free shift. 

Margaery had texted her too. She was back in Highgarden for a couple weeks before her internship started back up. Ever since her visit to Winterfell, she had taken to texting her more often. Letting her know she was being thought of, offering to meet up sometime soon. Sansa appreciated it more than she knew. Despite everything, she was surrounded by people who cared about her. The world was rough enough when you’re facing it by yourself. Here, she was not. 

“Are you going to Arya's game next week?” She asked, almost passively. 

Theon shrugged, fiddling with the drawers on her counter as he normally did, pretending like he was actually doing work, when they were really gossiping about co-workers. 

“Most likely. Swim season is starting back up, but you know I wouldn’t miss an opportunity to meet her new boyfriend.”

Sansa gasped. “I knew it! I _knew_ there was something there. Jon told me not to push, and Jeyne told me to ask her myself, but prefer to keep my organs intact. Still, she’s my _sister_ for Gods’ sake!”

Theon laughed. Then, his smile faded. Not by much, but enough to know that he wasn’t joking when he spoke again. “You’re going to be there, right?”

She gave him a strange look. “Of course.”

“Ok...just making sure.”

The world around them had grown tense. She tried to meet his eyes, but he was avoiding her own. She thought back to what Jeyne said. What he in love with her? Something else crossed her mind, before she could complete the thought.

“So...I heard Ros finally left the other day.” She began slowly. If she spoke any louder, she feared it would scare him away. 

His jaw tensed. “Yeah,” he said shortly. 

She took a deep breath before continuing. Her words were chosen carefully. “You were there for me when no one else was. Well...they were, but you were there when it mattered, I suppose.”  _ You were there when it mattered the most _ . “You can talk to me.” 

The rest remained unsaid, but Theon looked at her as if she said it anyway.

“I know,” he said. “Thank you, but…”

“It’s ok,” she said. “I think I get it.” 

He smiled. It was soft, even for him. This wasn’t the place or time, but a mutual understanding passed between the two of them. She had never felt that with anyone else. Even Marg, who had been through all she had plus more. It was…strange. But she would take it. 

So they switched topics, talking about lighter things. Arguing about pointless shit, employee gossip and Netflix binges. Nothing that would be important in a weeks’ time, but made the shifts pass by easier. Theon hid when Rodrick walked by, knowing he would be yelled at for hanging around her desk for too long. Sansa laughed at him, and covered his ass when he was asked for. It was all so easy.

But eventually, he was missed, and had to report back to whichever department he was supposed to be working with that day. Sansa went back to her usual routine, watching customers come and go. Most people who shopped at Target for makeup didn’t need her help. It was cheap enough to risk buying something they didn’t like, and expensive enough not to buy what they didn’t need. There wasn’t much need for anything in between. 

Someone else had come near then. Someone she didn’t recognize. Not at first, at least. 

But she did. In a way, she did. She was hovering. Wanting to speak with her. Not wanting to make the first move. 

“You’re Ros, aren’t you?” She asked curiously, breaking the silence. Arya was right. She was pretty. Red hair framing her sharp features and pale eyes. Sansa studied her for a long moment. She would do well in King’s Landing. She didn’t have to look long to know it. All her doubts and judgements elevating, when she saw for herself. "I thought you left for King's Landing." 

“You’re Sansa Stark,” she said, ignoring her. It wasn’t a question, and Sansa didn’t answer. She rolled her eyes after a moment. “The one my ex wouldn’t shut up about.” 

She frowned. “Can I help you?” She hadn’t meant to sound so harsh. She didn’t have anything against this girl. If anything, she was burning with curiosity. But it wasn't enough to mask the deep sense of unease in her stomach. 

Ros’ eyes burned into her own. She was  _ studying _ her, Sansa realized. Trying to understand who she was. 

“What do you want?” 

Her mouth pursed, and she blinked a few times. “I came to warn you. Against better judgement, I assure you, but that ex of yours is a real piece of work. Even for me. A means to an end, of course, but…” She grimaced. “I suppose I’ve dealt with worse.” 

Sansa felt her insides freeze. “Joff…” 

“Yeah,” Ros said bluntly. “Joff. He knows where you work. I wouldn’t have--” She paused mid-speech, and for a moment, she looked  _ terrified _ . Guilty, too. But terrified all the same. It all came rushing down on Sansa, like a bucket of cold water. 

“You told him I was here?” She whispered. 

Ros shuttered. “I needed the money. But you need to know this--I didn’t know he would….I didn’t genuinely _believe_ he could…” She shook her head. “Even with his baggage, Theon was worth ten of that one.” Her eyes darted upwards, and a look of fear flashed over her face. “You ought to get out of here while you can.” 

Sansa felt small. She was practically shrinking against her chair, struggling to meet her eyes. She didn’t know what do. 

Ros was gone before she could ask any more of her, leaving her to suffocate. Her mind caught up with her eventually. Joffrey was  _ here _ . Joffrey was here because of Ros. Ros had told him, and now he was coming for her. 

She didn’t need to look up to know. She could sense him, hovering nearby. Watching Ros walk away with  _ that _ expression on his face. She could sense him, turning his face towards her. Stepping closer, trapping her. She could sense him, and she didn’t need to look up. But she did. 

Her heart stopped. Nearly, completely, stopped. It was Joffrey. She would recognize those blue eyes anywhere, the ones that stared into her own with such determination. 

She opened her mouth, ready to speak. Everything she had told herself earlier that day...everything about this being her home, about him being unable to speak above her, was gone in an instant. 

His voice was cool, and high. Just as the ones from her nightmares. The one she remembered. “I was looking for something to buy for my girlfriend. You think you could help me?” 

The lightness in his eyes took a shade darker when she didn’t answer. She recognized that too, as she would anywhere. But before he could speak again, something else caught her eye. Just in the corner, so quick she almost missed it. 

Theon. With narrowed eyes. He was watching the two of them, his entire body rigid. They shifted to meet her own. When he saw the look on her face, they widened with disbelief. Her expression must have told him everything. 

She didn’t remember the rest too well. What she knew for certain was that Joffrey was against the wall, and Theon was beating the shit out of him. 

“Greyjoy!” Someone else called. Rodrick was pulling him off the other. His hand was on his collar, shaking him as the other separated the two. “Go home,” he snarled into his ear.

“Wait!” Sansa broke her silence at last, but nobody was hearing her. Cops were called, and Joffrey, at last, was escorted out. 

“You too,” he said to her, in a softer voice than before. “Take the day off.” 

She didn’t need to be told twice. Her heart still thudding as she pulled her keys with shaking hands. 

“No need for that,” Theon’s voice said. She didn’t know when he showed up at her side, or when his arms curled around her own and guided her through the double doors, but she didn’t need to be told twice.

\--

“Are you sure you’re alright?” She asked, grinding her teeth as she padded his wounds with a crumbled sanitizer pad. 

Theon winced. “I’ve had worse,” he muttered.

She rolled her eyes, focusing on the bruises on his cheekbone. He was right. She recalled a few evenings when he showed up on their doorsteps, blood on his cheeks and something dead dulling the light in his eyes. But his eyes weren’t dead now.

“I suppose I should be thanking you,” she sighed, replacing the pad with another. 

He looked at her in disbelief. “I thought you’d be mad.”

She shrugged. “You beat up my abusive ex. How can anyone be mad about that?”

He didn’t say anything.

They got ice cream after she patched him up. It was stupid. They were just sent home for causing a fight in the middle of Winterfell Target. They should be going home, or begging Rodrick for their job back (Sansa was sure she’d be fine, but it was Theon she was more worried about). But they deserved it, after the worst day on earth. 

“You think that was enough to scare him away?” Theon asked nervously, daring to look her in the eye.

Sansa couldn’t help but laugh. “Joffrey is many things...but brave isn’t one of them. He wanted me to be isolated. It’s what he did in King’s Landing, it’s what he tried to do here. Now that it knows that I’m not, I don’t think he’ll be touching me anytime soon.” 

Guilt flashed across his face. “I just…” To her surprise, something that looked suspiciously like tears pricked in the corner of his eyes. She forced herself to look him in the eye. “Me and Ros...I didn’t think she was even  _ capable _ …” 

She shook her head, and let her voice grow soft. “You can’t blame yourself,” she said. “She just wanted a way out. And she did try to tell the truth, even if it was too late." 

He looked surprised, but not as surprised as she felt. She should have been angry at her, for telling Joffrey where she was. And she was. She was furious. But in the end, she had tried to warn her. It was more than she would have ever done, a little girl from Winterfell who yearned for the south. 

“Still,” he said. “I should have done something sooner. Gods, I  _ saw _ him here, and I--” his voice choked. 

She covered his hands with her own, and his head snapped up. “It’s not your fault, Theon,” she whispered. “It’s over, I'm ok.” 

He laughed bitterly. “This is so messed up,” he said. 

“What?”

“You’re the one comforting  _ me _ .” 

Sansa shook her head. She had spent a lifetime dreaming of her prince. Her hero. She traveled the world for him, all the way into the lion’s den. Was it any surprise? For his teeth to be sharp?

Theon was no prince. Theon was rough. Theon was broken. But Theon had saved her. She didn’t care if those bruises stung her too. Because at least they were hers, and no one else’s. She didn’t know how to explain this to him in words, so she didn’t. Instead, she just smiled back at him. 

And she had to admit, with his bruised cheekbones and stupid denim jackets, Theon looked like a fucking hero right now.

 

\--

 

Theonsa playlist [here](https://open.spotify.com/user/dyrewolves/playlist/6V4vY7y74g2krFp38Oddzh?si=gWUG6N5fTEuUddWIGCt7ow). 


	6. Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I meant to write this a week ago but I'm trash. This chapter is also kind of trash (like...rLY trash), but my muse is pretty dead atm so I figured I'd push through till I get to the more exciting stuff. Thx for reading :)

Margaery was in town.

She had booked a train a few days before for the soccer tournament, claiming how desperate she was to get out of the city and breathe some fresh air. But the more and more time Sansa had spent with her, the more and more convinced she had become that she was growing secretly lonely. King’s Landing was a long ways away, and she had fewer friends then she had before.

They sat around the fire, sliding down until their backs were on the cushions and arms dangled over the edges. Margaery was leaned back on the hair-covered leather couch, sipping something from a coffee cup and watching whatever procedural cop show was on daytime television. She hummed contently, brown hair tied back in a loose knot and eyes half-closed.

“Jon’s cuter then I thought he’d be,” she said, out of nowhere. Sansa looked over. Her eyes were still half-closed, but her mouth had curved into a smile. She must have noticed Sansa looking at her. Her eyes opened and she looked back, still grinning like a cat.

“Um...ok,” Sansa said uneasily. What was the acceptable reaction, after all?

Margaery looked her over, face still screwing in thought. “He’s rather serious though. Is he always like that?” 

“I don’t know? I suppose?” She  _ really _ didn’t know what to say to that. Jon was her _brother_ , for gods' sake.

More than that, she knew he had to work ten times harder than the rest of them. It was something he was born with and something he had grown to know. Even when the rest of them would insist that he was their brother through and through, he never seemed to work hard enough to work past it. If he was 'serious', it was because he had good reason. But even she was not about to explain all of this. 

Margaery was looking at her again, and Sansa had the distinct feeling that she was studying her face. It was something everyone in the South did, whether they realized it or not. Always searching for something. Information they could extract, secrets to share. Whatever it was, Sansa could never shake the uneasiness in her stomach. 

But Sansa trusted Marg, as much as she trusted most others. Even so, the thought made her skin crawl. 

“He’s my brother, I don’t know," she said at last. She paused for a moment, looking back at her. "But I think he’s seeing someone." 

Margaery shrugged. “Pity, I would have made some serious considerations. But how about the other one? The one with the  _ eyes _ .” 

“Theon?” Sansa hated that she immediately knew who she was talking about. What she hated even more was the grin that spread across Margaery’s lips when she realized it herself. She had gotten what she wanted.

“Yeah.  _ Theon _ .” 

Sansa had fallen right into her trap. She looked down at her lap, avoiding her eyes. 

“He’s dating Ros--”

“ _ Was _ dating Ros, who’s days in Winterfell are numbered, even if she wasn’t dating your Ex.” 

Sansa winced. “Yeah, but he’s still pretty hung up on her.”

“Is he?” 

Sansa felt increasingly uncomfortable beneath her gaze. At last, however, Margaery shrugged and leaned back down, sighing as she let her drink clink softly above the shelf between them. 

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “It’s not exactly something we talk about.” She knew that it wasn’t what Margaery had meant, but she felt the guilt rush forward. All this time she had been talking about her own relationship issues, how many times had she asked about his own? Though, intense discussions about his feelings weren’t something that came naturally to Theon. She didn’t need to be an expert to know that. 

“Maybe you should,” she said. When Sansa rolled her eyes, Margaery leaned back forward. “I’m  _ serious _ , Sansa. He’s obviously in love with you. I mean, he understands you better than anyone…” 

She lifted an eyebrow. “I think you’re reading into this too much.”

“And I don’t think you’re reading enough into this at all.”

Sansa gritted her teeth, and thought about all the ways he had changed since her return to King’s Landing. She thought about how he rescued her walking home from Jeyne’s, no questions asked. She thought about falling asleep in his arms, puffs of breath against the back of her neck. She thought about how he beat the shit out of Joffrey when he only ever tried to speak to her, because he just  _ knew _ .

It was impossible for her not to fall in love with him.

But the way her friend was looking at her, all curious and analytical...she just couldn't. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

Margaery’s eyes widened until they were almost comical. “Oh my gods. You _are_ in love with him.”

“I never said that!” She hissed back, but the smile had already returned, triumph in her eyes. 

She knew Theon. Knew who he was before this whole mess had begun. It wouldn’t last long, what went between them. She had been broken too much to risk drawing herself in on such a risk.

_ But you know Theon _ , that voice reminded her.  _ You know you’ll never hurt you. Not him. Out of everyone, he’s the least of them all.  _

She had to ignore it.

“Even if it was true, I need more time before getting to another relationship,” is what she said instead. “I think I need at least that much, after everything.”

Margaery gave her a funny look, but thankfully, didn’t say anything. Instead, she nodded and took another sip. “If you say so.” 

\--

Arya’s tournament was...about what she expected. The whole lot of them had shown up, even their parents, finally home from a particularly long trip down south. 

Even the gods were there in their own way. The weather was clear and bright, and nicer than it had been in as long as anyone could remember. It was always tough to predict this close to winter. Arya's face had lit up when woke up that morning.

"Nothing is worse than practicing in the storm," she said to her.

Sansa reached back to help her mother with the chairs, throwing her (ignored) phone in the front seat, more content than she’d been in...well, what felt like years, really. Jon, Bran, and Rickon were already by the stands, throwing towels along the seats and chattering excitedly with Sam, Gilly, and Margaery. She had watched in the corner of her eye as Margaery spoke to Jon, looking at him through her eyelashes. Sansa had to laugh when she noticed how completely oblivious he was, checking over her shoulder for Ygritte's flaming hair. 

Robb, meanwhile, was heading down from the riverlands, picking up Theon along the way. _She would have better luck with Robb._  

She missed her brother, and couldn’t wait to see him again. And Theon--she hadn’t seen him since they had gotten ice cream. The thought gave her an almost giddy feeling of excitement. It didn't last long though, when she noticed her mother had stepped up beside her. 

“Something I ought to know about?”

She glanced over at her Catelyn. “Nothing especially interesting,” she said, doing her best to smooth her features.

Catelyn Stark looked at her daughter for one long moment. For a long, fearful moment, Sansa had the distinct feeling this was going to end in a  _ conversation _ . “Your father told me about a particular...incident he heard from Rodrick that occurred while we were away.”

Sansa swallowed nervously. “Oh?” She hadn't told her parents about what happened, but Winterfell wasn't a large place, and half the people they knew worked at that Target. It was only a matter of time before it crept through the grapevine. 

Catelyn’s face didn’t change. “Something to do with Theon Greyjoy...and some old friends from King’s Landing?” 

“It’s over now,” she said quickly. “It wasn’t even a thing to begin with. Just...a misunderstanding,” she finished weakly.

Her mother gazed at her, eyes narrowing in disbelief. Finally, she sighed, and shook her head. Sansa realized, in that moment, how  _ tired _ she looked. 

“Did I ever tell you about the first time I came to Winterfell?”

“No.”

Catelyn smiled faintly. “I was not much older than you are now, a riverlands girl with the world in her eyes. I met your uncle Brandon when he came to visit...I thought it was love at first sight.” 

_ You still do _ . She watched the wistful expression on Catelyn’s face as she set down the last of the rest of the lawn chairs. 

“But he was gone. Car accident, apparently.” She shook her head. “It didn’t matter. I met your father not long afterwards, and he took over his father’s business in Winterfell. But those ghosts followed me, Sansa. I left them behind in Riverrun, but they followed me all the way through the snow and through the city walls. They followed me for a long time afterwards. If it weren’t for your father, I…” she shook her head. “He made it easier, Sansa. It came at a price, but he made it easier.”

“I…” She had no idea what to say.

“I won’t force you to say anything, Sansa. If seeing this boy is making it...easier for you, then I won’t argue.”

She still had no idea what to say, looking at her mother in amazement. How could she possibly have known about Theon? She barely even knew herself. 

“Thank you,” she said.

Her mother smiled. “Your father knew his father quite well too, you know. They trust each other.” 

“Uh…ok,” she knew that Balon Greyjoy had known her father through work, but from the stories she had heard, they completely despised each other at worst and begrudgingly tolerated each other at best. 

Her mother’s smile grew. “He came all the way from King’s Landing just to see you. I can hardly believe it myself, but it’s clear that he cares, at least. When he asked when Arya’s tournament was, I knew we’d have to--”

“--Wait...what?”

“--And don’t worry about Theon. I made sure to tell Robb he wasn’t welcome here. Your father and I already spoke with Rodrick about it all too.”

“You… _ what _ ?” Oh no. Oh no.  _ Oh no _ . “Please mother,” she was begging. “Don’t let him fire Theon. He didn’t do anything wrong!” She wanted to say more, to explain that she had it all wrong, but her words were stuck in her throat. It was all she could do to tell her this much at all. Catelyn looked at her, frowning. 

“But I thought--”

“It was...just misunderstanding. Just please, promise me you won’t let him fire Theon.” 

“Of course, dear,” she was still looking at her, but Sansa sighed in relief. But her relief didn’t last long. The thudding in her heart that began the moment her mother mentioned the tournament. But she couldn’t explain it. Not after her mother had been  _ so excited _ for her.

No, it wasn’t that. Catelyn was right. She couldn’t tell the rest of them about it.  _ But if she didn’t, Theon would lose his job. Theon would be blamed. How quick did it take for her own mother to turn against him?  _

“Sansa? Is everything all right?”

She stared back at her mother, mouth gaping. At last, she swallowed, and shook her head. “Yeah,” she said. “Everything’s fine.”

She needed to get out of here, though. She couldn’t be here. Not if Joff would be too. She doubted Robb would have told her mother what he did to her, but he wouldn’t be so quick as to bring Theon along with. 

Sansa grabbed her phone from the front seat, and was immediately greeted with a rush of messages and missed calls. A few from Theon, one from Jon, and more than a few from Robb. She took a deep breath.

Catelyn was gone, left to go set up the chairs. Sansa was alone, with just the car. She paced back a few steps, until her back was against it. The metal, warm from the spring winds, pressed through her clothes. 

She couldn’t believe it. Joffrey finding her here, she could believe. But  _ Theon _ ? To think that her family-- _ his _ family--would believe that...what? What was it that they believed? That he got jealous, perhaps? Or maybe that the fight didn’t have anything to do with her at all, that he just  _ happened _ to get into a fight with her ex boyfriend. Regardless, she would tell her mother.  _ As soon as I catch my breath, I’ll tell my mother _ . 

It didn’t matter what she’d gone through, all those months ago. Theon had saved her. He deserved better than a girl who trembled from her past. She forced herself to keep tears from leaking through the corner of her eye. She would not cry. _She would not cry_. Not here. 

“Joff told me you’d be here,” a voice came from behind her. She jumped. 

Ros was leaning against the truck opposite of her, eyebrows raised. Sansa looked to either side of her. No Joff, thank the gods.

“Did he?” She replied, voice a pitch higher than normal.  “I...I thought…”

Ros smiled humorlessly. “I wouldn’t worry about it. After the Target incident, I don’t think he’s too keen on returning anytime soon. He assumed--wrongly, I might add--that your family would figure it out.” 

There was a pause. Sansa didn’t know if she was supposed to speak, or if she was, what she was supposed to stay. She quickly realized that she was staring, but she couldn’t help it. This was the first time she had spoken to Ros for more than a brief conversation. 

“I suppose I should thank you,” she said warily.

Ros shrugged. “Thank me, don’t thank me, it doesn’t make much difference, does it?” 

She swallowed. “Why are you here? I thought the two of you would be returning to King’s Landing.”

Ros huffed. “I wouldn’t worry about that either. Joff’s gone to Casterly Rock with his mother, he texted me last night.”

She wasn’t expecting that. “Why Casterly Rock?”

“Fuck if I know. All I know if that you couldn’t pay me enough to speak to him again. He’s been a complete nightmare ever since I bought my ticket to King’s Landing. I swear to the gods, I wish someone would have told me his parent’s gold wasn’t worth shit if that was the price.”

She shifted on her feet. There it was again, that awkward pause. “I’m sorry, I still don’t--”

“I don’t know if I should apologize," Ros interrupted. "That’s why I came here.” Sansa looked at her. She wasn't joking. Her brow was furrowed, shifting from one foot to another. "I tried to warn you, but it the end it didn't even matter. He still...almost got to you, and I stayed with him anyway." 

“Do you want to apologize?”

Another pause.

Sansa tried to think of what she could say. She settled with the truth. “You’ll do well in King’s Landing,” she said. “Theon and I...we both tried to run away. But just because it wasn’t for us doesn’t mean it won’t be for you.” 

Ros smiled. The same smile that Sansa hated before. The one that said she knew something she did not. 

She realized, in that instance, that it wasn’t so bad when it wasn’t at her expense. 

**Author's Note:**

> Main Tumblr: @inertiaspider  
> Writeblr: @amcgoldrick   
> Twitter: @mcgoldrickavery


End file.
